


Canis

by YigaClan



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Collars, Dom/sub, F/M, Femdom, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 02:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YigaClan/pseuds/YigaClan
Summary: He is happiest at the foot of her throne.





	Canis

**Author's Note:**

> Woah, a het fic. Once in a blue moon, I tell ya.

At the far wall of the vast room is placed a tall throne, on which the Queen of Twilight reclines, one leg crossed over the other. Her silhouette is tall and slender against the black and teal contours of the back of the throne. She is naked save for her circlet, underneath of which her copper hair falls over the curve of her breasts. She lifts one hand, and crooks a finger toward herself. 

About a yard or two away from her stands her escort, and at her beckoning he approaches her, blue eyes trained on her, until he's at arms length waiting for her next command. She snaps once and points at the floor, and slowly he sinks to his knees on the short dais at her feet, still watching her diligently. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and she feels a thrill run through her, but maintains her countenance flawlessly. 

Midna takes a moment to admire him, reaches out and touches his flushed cheek.Link leans into her touch only slightly. He mustn't upset the balance here. She is his charge. He is her dog. And like a dog, he awaits her direction easily and naturally. The collar around his neck, rather thick and made of black the very same black metal as the throne upon which she sits, is not to bind him. He knows his place. But it still gives Midna great satisfaction to see it around his tanned neck, and it gives Link great satisfaction to wear it. 

“I was beginning to miss you,” She admits. She slips two of her long, dark fingers into his mouth. He opens for her as she presses them against his tongue, rubbing over the hot slickness of it. He moans softly, breathing picking up, and she looks down and sees him pressing his naked thighs together. 

Midna uncrosses her legs and spreads them, removing her fingers from his mouth and running them over the dark, soft folds at the meeting of her thighs. 

“Did you miss me as well, dog?” She asks, knowing full well that he does. His rising erection is proof of that. 

“Yes, my Queen,” He says quietly, voice a bit rough around the edges from so long without use. He normally doesn't speak, has been a quiet presence since childhood. 

“Then show me.” She says sternly. Her voice echoes in the dim chamber and ricochets off of the walls and sends a shiver through Link's bones. 

He places his hands on the edge of the seat of the throne between her legs and dips his head down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against her inner thigh. She observes him through lidded, molten red eyes. Without any hesitation at all he laves a long line with the flat of his tongue against her, and she sucks in a hissing breath through her teeth. “Good boy,” She praises, trailing off into a moan. 

Link closes his eyes and fits his mouth to the wet heat of her, taking in her taste and scent. The feral part of him that is still sensitive to both of these things causes him to lose himself. His mouth knows what to do. He falters only slightly when she sinks her hand into his messy, chestnut-brown locks and pulls him toward her gently but insistently. It shouldn't catch him off guard, but he quickly forgets to be surprised as he circles his tongue over her most sensitive place and she _groans._ He hopes she doesn't notice when he slips his hand down between his legs and begins to pump himself to relieve some of the pressure there. He quickly finds out he's wrong. 

She yanks Link's head away harshly until it's bent back and he cries out, startled. His eyes are wild, but she looks upon him with only a mild expression of disapproval. 

“Behave,” Midna says rigidly before giving his hair another harsh tug for emphasis. He says nothing, only breathes shallowly. She loosens her grip a bit and guides his head back to where she's wet and wanting and he wastes no time in putting his mouth to good use again. She leans her head against the back of the throne and it isn't long before he's worked her into a panting mess. Link wants nothing more than to please her; he hopes she will please him in return, but his own wishes are an afterthought. He knows, however, that she loves rewarding him. 

Midna won't last much longer like this. She pets at his hair and whines when he sucks and licks gently at the swollen, sensitive apex of her arousal and he feels her pulse beneath his tongue, and soon it's a heated and frantic rush toward her climax. Link whimpers softly when she presses herself hard against him, and he can only open his mouth and obey as she writhes with his head in her hands. 

“Good boy,” She moans shakily, and he distantly thinks that for her to praise him in the throes of her passion is a blessing he could never return. He only manages whimper again in reply. She squeezes her thighs around him and clenches her fingers viciously in his hair, arching with a cry, and he lets her guide him through her orgasm, revelling in the pain of her ruthless grip. She bites out a curse. 

Link's throbbing between his legs now when Midna slowly spirals down from her high. He _needs_ to be touched. Needs her to relieve him. She runs her trembling hand over first his ear and then his jaw, then traces the edge of the thick, heavy collar. He had been chained once, she remembers. All that time ago. Even then he was at her mercy. 

Link watches her attentively. He's aching but he can't tell her, can't beg unless she gives him permission to do so. Fortunately, she sits up, still a bit out of breath, and addresses him. 

“What’s this? Do you want me to touch you, little wolf?” She asks with a tone of feigned ignorance, grinning. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” Link groans. His hands have gone back to resting on the tops of his thighs. 

Midna leans forward until she's within inches of his face, catching his chin with her finger. 

“Beg.” 

There is but a heartbeat of silence between them. 

“Please, Your Highness, make me come.” 

She stares at him expectantly with a raised brow, so he continues. 

“Please. I've been good.” 

Midna clicks her tongue in reply, nodding decidedly. “I suppose you have. Very well, come here.” 

She pats the seat of the throne and he comes to her, and sits with his back against her chest. She can feel him trembling. His skin is so hot against hers, slick with sweat and flushed at the neck and shoulders and ears. She kisses between his shoulder blades, one hand coming around his front and taking the slick head of his cock in her fist. He immediately jerks into her grip, so incredibly sensitive from weeks without her allowing him to touch himself. 

“Tell me again what it is that you want?” Midna says as she glides her fist all the way down the length of him, his precum making her movements easy and unhindered. 

“Goddesses, I need to come,” Link whines. She's so slow that it _hurts._ He pushes his hips up into her touch but she holds him down, to which he lets out a plaintive cry. 

“Patience,” Midna warns. Link groans despondently and lets his head fall back against her shoulder. Gradually she increases her pace, twisting her hand on the upstroke in just the way she knows will send him over the edge. Her other hand leaves his hip and travels up his stomach and further still to his chest, where she pinches his nipple hard between her thumb and index finger. He squirms in her grasp, shuddering and breathing hard. 

“Let me hear you, dog. Tell me how it feels.” 

“It's so good,” Link gasps out. She's bringing him so _close,_ and he's _almost there--_

Before he can say another word he's coming, and she's bringing him to oblivion. His eyes are tightly closed but he sees white, tastes his release on his tongue, curls his toes and lets out soft but urgent little whines in time with the waves of his climax. 

Again Midna praises him in a hushed voice, looking over his shoulder at the mess of white on his stomach and in her hand. He starts to slump against her form as the pleasure subsides, slipping out of the throne just a bit. 

She wraps her arms possessively around Link's torso; his heartbeat still thumps wildly against her chest. 

“You're always so wonderful,” She says, dreamlike, breathing in the scent of him. Link grins, relatively exhausted. 

He uses the rest of his energy to place his hands on top of hers where they hug his body, and what little is left after that to kiss whatever parts of her he can reach. 


End file.
